At first sight
by Ilse17
Summary: After the (great) season finale, Lisbon and Jane muse about their past and present relationship and their new knowledge of each other's past.
1. At first sight

That morning, she was the first to open her eyes, for once. The sun was obviously already high in the sky, and bright rays were piercing through the lids, falling on the bed, lightening golden reflects on a blonde head near her.

She rose up on one elbow to look at him.

"Patrick", she whispered, relishing the sound of his firstname on her lips. He was Patrick for her now. She was done for ever with that artificial distance of the second name, maintained for so long with the one who had been for years the nearest, dearest person in her heart.

It had been so easy to get used to call him Patrick. Yet every time shed did it, she felt a burst of joy.

They had just spent four days in their luxury suite in the Blue Bird, spending a lot of time in bed, unable to get enough of exploring the other's body, of pleasing and be pleased, again and again. They had eaten when they'd got hungry, at any hour of the day, and they had stayed on the beach at night, unable to get enough of asking to each other all what they had wanted to know for years.

Teresa had always suspected what kind of lover he could be, on the physical point of view, with his amazing ways of guessing how she felt at any time. But she had not imagined, on a sentimental level, how able he was to give himself completely, how utterly devoted to her he was. Once the last barrier broken down, there was no reservation, no holding back for him. Yet it shouldn't have been a surprise, she should have known better, considering how long he had remained completely faithful to his dead wife.

She couldn't get tired of contemplating him in his sleep, looking as innocent as a little boy. She had always liked it.

The first time she had watched him that way had been only two days after they had first met, when she had caught him sound asleep on the old brown couch he had just brought from the storeroom in the bullpen. At the moment, the fact that he had just done whatever he wanted without asking permission to anyone had not stricken her at all. She had just admired his long lashes, his beautiful features made even more perfect in his rest. She had been glad to see he had found, if only for a moment, a measure of peace.

Yes, now she could admit it at last, it had been almost love at first sight.

Of course, she knew that even without his looks, she'd have taken interest in him, because of his tragic past, the lost expression in his eyes, and even because of his "homeless vibe". She couldn't help it, she had to try and fix broken people, even earning the nickname 'Saint Teresa' from her colleagues because of that. Patrick had been right to point that she had put up with Hannigan's moody ways because he had reminded her of her father.

The Patrick of that first day, with his shy, broken behaviour had immediately attracted her compassion. Then, Minelli had forced her to bring him with her on a case, and she had not been pleased. Of course, his uncanny, immediate insight into all the aspects of the case had puzzled her. But what kind of impulse had led her to ask him to solve it for her ? She, a by the book, no-nonsense cop, asking a former false psychic, a victim relative, to solve a case for her ? What indeed had possessed her ?

She had many times asked herself that question in the following months, especially any time he had pissed off a big wig , or pulled some kind of dangerous stunt. At the time, she'd never had admitted, even to herself, that attraction, and not only compassion, had led her to give him the opportunity to solve the case, and thus, impressing Minelli, to get that job as a consultant.

Not that she had ever truly regretted it, deep inside. She'd never forgotten the sight of him the following day, proudly wearing his CBI badge. Gone the slouching posture, the protective gesture of his arm crossed over his chest. That very moment, she had known she had done the right thing.

And it had not taken long before the compassion for his past, admiration for his skills and attraction for his looks, or whatever mixed feelings she'd had for him in the beginning, had given way to deeper ones. As angry as she had been at him sometimes, she had come to understand the depth of his devastation, and the equal capacity for love that was hidden behind the arrogant, cheeky behaviour.

As time went by, he had become her best friend, the one who understood her the best, the one who had these tiny, thoughtful gestures that showed that he cared. And all this time, she had never ceased to be attracted to him, and had never ceased to deny herself any hope. He was and would remain emotionally unavailable, at least untill Red John would go down.

She had treasured the letters he had sent her from the island, and when he had come back, asking to work with her, she'd had some kind of fleeting hope they would at last come into a relationship. But then, he had escaped in New York, and all her abandonment issues had recured. She was so mad at him that in that plane, on their way back, she had lashed out at him with such an unfortunate choice of words that it had strengthened his belief that he was completely unworthy of her.

And then had begun that absurd period when they had danced around each other. Their first day at the Blue Bird, they had spent all the time not devoted to lovemaking to ponder over the reasons of such a mess.

She had admitted then that she too was to blame. For once, she had not been much more straightforward than him. The memory of Vegas, and of his betrayal on the beach, that new episode in New York, the purchase of the airstream, all this had made her unable to trust him enough to make the first move. If he truly wanted her, if she was to be sure that he wouldn't walk away when it'd suit him, he had to be the first to talk about his feelings. This, after all he had done in the past, was perfectly understandable, he had said. But then, when Pike had arrived, unconsciously Teresa had projected upon him her dream of a couple's life. Except that the only man she really wanted to be with was Patrick. She had lied to herself, and in the process, she had lied to both men and had hurt them. She still felt bad about Pike. He had not taken well what she had done, but who really could have ?

Teresa had kept hoping that Patrick would confess he was in love with her. But he was still struggling with his guilt about having fallen in love with another woman than Angela, with the belief that he always brought disaster on the women he loved, and the fear that by wanting more, he would lose the one good thing he had in his life : her friendship. Considering that she had been right to accuse him of wanting to control his life, he had tried to let her decide, without interfering, if she needed him more than the safe, normal life that Pike could offer her. Even his last scam had been set up to make her change her mind by herself. Confessing his feelings, asking her to stay had seemed to him too much of an interference.

Of course, it was just a way to delude himself, a pretext not to face his own issues. And in the end, all his resolves had cracked, only remaining his fear to lose her for ever.

'What a fool', she thought fondly. But he had really made it up for her now, with that amazing public declaration, and since then, he seemed to make a point of being always honest with her, however reluctant he could be to share some aspects of his past.

He had told her everything she wanted to know, speaking freely of all these years he had holden back his attraction to her, out of fear of Red John, and guilt towards his wife's death. He had told her how the only reason that had prevented him from ending his life after killing Mc Allister had been her. How lonely he had been in his island, not even bothering to learn how to speak spanish properly, as if it would have meant to resign himself to never see her again.

He'd even talked her about Angela and Charlotte, evoking many happy moments with them.

One of the things he seemed most reluctant to speak about, apart from his time in a mental facitlity, was his childhood. Obviously, these were two periods he was ashamed of.

Without pushing him, Teresa had told her about her own childhood, how her beloved father, after her mother's death, had turned into a sorry drunk, crying, shouting in front of his children, beating them, even, and not remembering anything of it when he had sobered. She told him about her fight to hide his father's state, in spite of everything, in fear that she and her brothers would be placed in foster care. But in the end, exhausted, she had told to a sympathetic neighbourg what happened, and they had been separated from their father. He had killed himself shorlty after that. She told him about the doubts she had now. Could she have prevented all this from happening ?

Then he had tried to convince her she had done the right thing for her brothers, telling her about his own experience in foster care, when his father been in jail for a few months. His foster family hadn't cared a lot about him, but it had been the only period in his childhood when he had felt safe. He began to talk about his life with Alex Jane, and, bit by bit, she began to understand what a hell of a childhood he'd had. As abusive as her own father had become at times, he loved them, and still showed them his love when he was not drunk. But it seemed that Alex Jane had been completely unable to understand what a precious gift in his live was his beautiful, clever , kind-hearted little boy. He had abused Patrick both verbally and physically, and not only when drunk, but in cold blood as well. Pete and some other carny friends had helped a bit, but had never really interfered, as it was their bastard obviously considered his son only as a mean to an end, a way to earn more money by conning people. How she'd like to find the man and make him pay for what he'd done.

Teresa sighed, remembering and regretting again her ownangry words :

"You're so twisted up in your own dishonesty that you have no idea how to act like a decent human being".

She had always known that when it came to personal matters, his lies and schemes were often a way of hiding his wounds. And she had always suspected that he'd been damaged even before what had happened to his wife and daughter. But now she knew. All his childhood, dishonesty had been taught to him as way of living. And all his childhood, dishonesty had been the only way to protect himself from a brutal, cold-hearted father. Lies and schemes had become his shield, his ways of hiding how vulnerable he really was.

Her eyes brimmed with tears still on his sleeping form, she whispered fiercely : "I'll never, ever let anyone hurt you again".

It said a lot about his true nature that Patrick had nonetheles become the man he was, with such a capacity for love, and some kind of ethics, if not conventional ones. When she had told him so, he'd answered that he had learnt what love was with his mother, who had died when he was only five, and then with Angela.

"And you, my love, reminded me what it was like, when I thought I would never feel anything but hate anymore", he had added.

Yes, she knew that if she had ever done a good thing in her life, it had been to help that man to hold himself together. For him, and for all the people he could help. And for herself as well, for he was giving her the most strong and wonderful experience of her life, that of a deep, shared love. She knew it wouldn't be always easy, that he was still a deeply scarred person, but so was she, and it allowed her to understand him better. She would be there for him.

As if awaken by her loving stare, he opened his eyes ans smiled at her, his eyes parkling with joy.

"I ask nothing else of life, except to have you as my first sight every day", he whispered.

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	2. The golden thread

The golden thread

That night, they were again on the beach. Only two more days now, and they'd have to go back to Austin. Patrick would have liked to never leave that wonderful place, where he had Teresa all for himself. And in the same time, he was excited at the idea that their life together, everyday life as a couple, was about to begin. They had already made projects, in what area they would settle, what kind of house they would choose. Or rather, she had made some projects, for wherever Teresa would choose to live was home for him. She had agreed to keep the airstream so they could use it for some week-ends out of town.

He'd never been happier in his life, he thought, as he was looking at his love taking a midnight bath. He had not joined her, for as much as his ankle had improved, trying to jump into the strong waves of the ocean woulnd't have been a very good idea. But seeing her enjoying herself that much was an even greater pleasure.

How funny that one of the things Teresa used to praise him for was his capacity of relishing the small pleasures of life, as she said.

For after the murder of his family, the one and first thing he'd been able to relish had been her smile.

Before meeting her, he'd lived in some kind of frozen, ghostly world, where the brightest sun brought no warmth, where the more vivid coulours, the most beautiful sights had no reality. He registered his surroundings and responded to them enough to put up a facade and be released from the mental facility, but to him everything was only some kind of distant background. Only existed Red John, and how to find access to any kind of clue about him. Killing Red John some day was the only idea that made him get up on the morning like some kind of hopeless, vengeful living corpse.

Only her smile and her beautiful, compassionate green eyes had been able to reach him through the icy fog that was surrounding him. The knowledge that he would see her during the day had given him another reason to go on. Enjoying her company had become the one and first thread that had led him back in the world of the livings, the world where there were sights, smells and sounds that could be enjoyed.

Maybe she had been the first person to be real again for him because he was real for her. He had felt, from the very beginning, that she could see him, his real self, and not the various images he could project as it suited him, to the point he sometimes didn't know himself who he was.

But she knew. From the very beginning. If not, would she have had the idea to show him that even without pretending to be a psychic, he was actually able to solve a case ?

That first day he had spent following her in her investigations, he had given her clues about the case without really thinking about it, because observing people and their behaviour had become second nature for him. He hadn't foreseen at all that she'd actually ask him to help her to solve the case. At first, he hadn't thought he could do it. He had succeeded yet, and it had been his ticket for the CBI and unlimited access to the Red John files. But it had been as well a first step toward some measure of self esteem. And he knew that it'd been the reason why she'd done it, even if she hadn't been completely aware of it at the moment.

For if reading people was second nature for him, helping them was like breathing for her. She saw a person in anyone she met, never just clues for her own behavior and means to an end.

Once he had begun working with her, it had not taken long for him to understand what a kind, strong person she was, just like Angela. It had not taken him long either to realise that she could see too many shades of grey to be just that tough and by the book cop she pretended to be. It was mainly a mask. And that was something he could understand very well. With his father, expressig his true feelings, showing any kind of weakness, meant to give the bastard tools he would use, immediately or much later, to hurt him and bend him to his will. That's why he'd seen very soon that Teresa's mask hid the damages from her own past, and other aspects of her personality as well, her self doubts, her keen sense of humour, and even (lucky for him) her awareness that sometimes some rules had to be broken.

God, how he loved that woman. She'd become so quickly the best friend he'd ever had. Many times, he had regretted too late the hard time she'd had because of another of his foolhardy or illegal schemes. And he'd tried to make it up for her, using all the ways he could think of.

And then, slowly, along his way back in the living world, he'd been able to be attracted to women again.

Or rather, to one woman.

To identify when he'd realised that she was not only his dearest friend, but also a very attractive woman was not easy. It was probably not long before he bought the emerald neckless to her. Even if he had bought one to Van Pelt too, he remembered perfectly that it was the green jewels he'd imagined matching green eyes, anticipating their effect on her white skin.

But of course, fantasizing on another woman than Angela was unthinkable, unacceptable. He'd fought this with all means at his disposal, infuriating her on purpose, like a small boy with his first crush, hiding informations from her, to protect her, but also to keep her at a distance, trying to hide any kind of pain or hearthache to avoid indulging in the comfort she was always ready to give him.

For it went without saying that he had to be faithfull untill death to Angela, the only woman he'd ever loved, the one whose death he was responsible for. That he didn't deserve to be loved by anyone went without saying as well. These weren't even conscious decisions. It was just part of what he had become.

That's why, maybe, the only women he'd allowed himself to feel attracted to were Kristina and Erica, two women he despised, for different reasons. With Erica, real involvement was just impossible, as she was supposed to go back to jail. He had asked Kristina for a date because of her obvious interest in him, and because he hadn't yet managed to find out if she was a perfect liar, or on the contrary self-delusional to the point she believed in her own so-called psychic powers. He'd done it as well with the idea that if Red John saw him taking interest in other women, he wouldn't suspect what Teresa meant for him. And then, the sick bastard had kidnapped Kristina, probably mostly because of what she had said on TV, but he'd felt responsible nonethless. If he hadn't crossed her path again, nothing of this would have happened to her. So he had kept refusing any opportunity of dating, however explicit some women at the CBI or elsewhere had made their interest in him.

It was not a difficult thing to do, as he was more and more aware that only one woman would ever interest him. What was difficult was not making this obvious for her as well.

He'd known from the beginning that she was attracted to him. After all, it'd been his job for years to know that kind of things. But even if Red John had not been lurking in the background, she deserved so much better than him. And yet, hypocrite bastard that he was, he'd let her devote ten years of her life to his revenge. The only man he had encouraged her to date had been Mashburn, because he'd known from the beginning that neither her nor him would take their attraction to each other seriously. Mashburn because he never did, and Teresa because he was a kind of man she'd never trust. It had been another decoy, another way to try and make her believe that she was just a friend for him.

But the real miracle was that she had fallen in love with him, a man whose attitude in life seemed on many points quite similar as Mashburn's. And on some other points, much worse. What had she seen in him, to become so deeply attached to him ? To never give up on him, even when he'd been at his worst ? All his mentalist skills couldn't explain him that, or so it seems. Maybe it was no use pondering too much over it. He was done considering that he didn't deserve to be happy. What was important was that she deserved all the happiness in the world. And these four days had been enough to make him be sure, now, that whatever the reasons, she had chosen him and needed him, that he'd been wrong to try to let her go for her own sake. In the end, he'd not been able of such selfless act. But he'd managed, on the contrary, to get over his fear that any full commitment to her would mean to lose her. And it had turned for the best.

What was important now was to be grateful for such a precious, undeserved gift. And grateful he was, more that he could ever say. He'd make it all worthwhile for her, with all the resolve he was capable of. Making her the happiest woman in the world would be his new single-minded goal.

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	3. Out of trouble

Teresa got out of the water and ran toward Patrick, who put a towel on her shoulders and rubbed her back. Then they sat in the sand, with her still wrapped in his arms.

He held her tight, suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of how very close he had been to lose these moments forever.

"Without you, I'm not sure I'd had made it", he suddenly whispered.

Teresa felt a moment of vertigo, realizing that it was true. She'd always known that she had a pivotal role in Patrick's life, but these few days had made her realize even more that she was his lifeline, plain and simple. Without her, without anything left to lose, he'd probably have been even more reckless than he already was and got himself killed in the field at the first occasion. She couldn't get that idea out of her head, especially after what he had confessed her what he'd been close to do after killing Mc Allister.

Turning suddenly in his embrace, she put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, trying to convey all the love she felt at that moment.

"I don't know how I could consider to go and let you out of my sight", she said. "I understand now that I'd have been worry sick all the time. I'd probably have driven Cho crazy by calling him every day to check on you. It'd have been hell, and probably for Pike as well, very soon."

"But now", she added in a very serious tone, "I really hope that you'll do your best not to make me worry so often about your safety. Promise me you'll do your very best to keep yourself out of trouble."

"I promise", he answered tenderly. And then suddenly, his eyes darkened,

_Yeah, like you were able to keep that promise the first time you made it._

Teresa's words had awoke such a vivid memory.

Patrick had made his way toward Angela's trailer and was about to knock when he heard her parents who were in the middle of a rather animated discussion, or so it seemed. He was going to move away when he heard his name. Unable to resist the temptation to know what they thought of him, he stopped.

"You're unfair, Tom. When when our circuit crossed theirs and we met them, Patrick was always around, and you never objected to it."

"I felt sorry for him, just like you did, because of his SOB of a father. And I admit that I liked him. But you know perfectly well that since Angie came back, he's become far more than a friend to her. I don't want him around her."

"I don't understand you. Patrick is not at all like his father. He's clever, funny, kind-hearted…"

"Yeah, and charming too, isn't he ? Are you as smitten as Angie is ?" Tom Ruskin laughed. Then he said more seriously.

"Don't get me wrong. I know that the kid is nothing like his father. I've never seen him mistreating anyone, and I agree that he's generous any time he has two coins in his pocket. But we didn't send Angie to highschool to let her ruin her future. We have enough to worry with Danny. She always wanted to leave the carnival and have a better life. And that boy's trouble. Always pulling some trick, and on top of that, unable to shut his mouth when he should. I've seen him taunt men ten years older and twice his size. One day he'll put his neck in a noose one time too many, and it'll end up badly."

Suddenly, someone put a delicate hand on Patrick's mouth, striking him lightly on the head with the other.

"No one ever told you it's wrong to eavesdrop ?" said Angela's mocking voice.

He turned to to look at her. "No, never", he smirked. "Besides, it can be useful. Your parents seem pretty busy for a while. Shall we go to the wheel ?"

"OK", she answered.

When the big wheel stopped abruptly as they were on the top and made no sign it would restart any sooner, Angela was not very surprised. Patrick's face, as usual, had revealed nothing, but the knowing stare of Benny, the twelve years old son of the wheel's owner, had given everything away when they had climbed inside.

"Patrick", she sighed, "you don't have to ask Benny to stop the wheel to have the opportunity to kiss me. All what you have to do is to ask, any time. I love you."

And before he'd even had to ask, her lips were on his, and he felt all his bones melt, forgetting everything.

Wrapping her in his arms, he thought he'd never felt that happy in all his life. The most beautiful, amazing, adorable and clever girl in the world loved him. How was it possible ?

He knew he could charm people into doing what he wanted, he's even been trained for that. People would admire his skills, fawn over him even. But love him ? He hugged her even tighter.

"I love you so", he whispered. "I'm the luckiest bastard in the world."

"Who wouldn't love you ?" she said. "That your father is unable to love anyone but himself doesn't mean you can't be loved, you know."

Sometimes, he wondered who was supposed to be the mentalist. She always seemed to guess what was in his head.

As a child, he'd tried to please his father, to be loved by him, learning anything he wanted him to. Only to be bullied, belittled or beaten most of the time. And then, there's been that awful thing the bastard had forced him to do. They had stolen money from a dying girl and his grandmother. That night, Patrick had given up on his father for good. The fights between them had become more and more frequent, with sometimes a rather big amount of bodily damages for Patrick. Now he only stayed for Angela, and she'd stayed for her parents so far. But she had never wanted to live that kind of life and they knew it. Some day, as soon as possible, he would leave with her, he thought, as they cuddled each other between sky and earth.

"How long did you ask Benny to stop the wheel ?" Angela said at last, smiling.

"I'm sorry I did that. I thought we would be safe here. You know my dad doesn't want me to be with you, he knows too well what you and your folks think of him. And he's too afraid to lose his easy cash supply for his drinking and gambling. Besides, your dad doesn't approve either. He thinks I'm trouble."

"Well, I'm afraid he's right", she answered, her eyes full of laughter. "But he'll come to understand that for me, you'll do your best to keep yourself out of trouble. Won't you ?"

"Or course I will", he answered fiercely. "I promise."

Would he be able to keep his promise to Teresa after he'd failed Angela so tragically ?

"Hey", said Teresa, turning in his arms to look at him firmly and lovingly, "I know you will."

Sometimes, he really wondered who was supposed to be the mentalist. She always seemed to guess what was in his head.

**Someone asked me more dialogues. What do you think ? I thought that maybe the moment Patrick and Teresa come together at last would be somehow a moment he'd remember his past as well, precisely to be able to turn the page. Please review ! And many thanks to the ones who already did !**


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